The Truth
by ErikaBwitch
Summary: Jax's houseguest may have a connection to Clay's latest scheme.
1. Chapter 1

Clay pounded on the door with the side of his fist, leaning on the door frame with his other arm.

"Come on, Jax! Get your ass out here!" He straightened and put his hands on his hips. A quick survey of the surrounding neighborhood revealed an elderly woman shuffling past, eyeing the tall denim-and-leather clad man making so much noise. Clay grabbed his crotch and puckered his lips at the woman, chuckling at her shocked reaction. He turned and pounded on the door again. "Jax! Unless you're bleeding to death or fucking some goddess open the damn—"

At that moment the door swung open. It wasn't Jax. Instead, a petite brunette stood in the doorway. Her long damp hair indicated that she had been in the shower. Clay noticed that her black and orange tank top revealed more than the brunette probably intended.

"Jax isn't home." She said.

Clay was taken aback for a moment_. Damn, Jax gets all the hot tail_, he thought. This piece of tail, however, he had never met before. But right now was not the time for small talk.

"Well, where the hell is he?"

"He went out for a ride a few hours ago." She crossed her arms across her chest, obscuring the view. She regarded the much taller man before her for a moment. Clay Morrow, with his grey hair that might have been blonde years before, small eyes, and large prominent chin, probably would never be called an attractive man. But what he lacked in looks he made up for in charisma. "You must be Clay."

_I don't have time for this_, Clay thought, trying not to let his mind wander. "Did he say where he was going?"

"No. I don't think he was actually _going_ anywhere. But he's been gone for a while. I can't imagine that he'll be out much longer." She shifted her weight to one foot and leaned against the door frame; she was now standing only a few inches closer to him, but the move wasn't lost on Clay. "You want to come in and wait?"

Clay placed his hand on the door jamb a foot above her head and leaned in close. She smelled warm, like patchouli. _Oh, don't tempt me_. "Just tell him," he said, reaching up with his other hand and pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, "to get his ass back to the house." He stood there for a moment. If this was any other time on any other day, he probably would have been inside the house already. Sighing, he allowed himself a small smile and shook his head. Then he put his sunglasses back on and silently swaggered back to his bike. Throwing his leg over the seat and starting the engine, he threw the brunette a lascivious look and revved the engine a few times before pulling away.

* * *

The rest of Samcro was already sitting around the table in the chapel when Jax walked in a couple of hours later. He felt all eyes on him as he took his seat. No one said a word. Clay looked at him expectantly with a wide shit-eating grin on his face. Jax was thoroughly confused.

"What?" The silence was beginning to unnerve him.

"So who's the hot mama shacked up at your place?" Clay asked through his grin.

"She's not a mama," Jax answered.

"Well…is she your old lady, then?"

"No!" Jax answered a bit more forcefully than he intended. He relaxed before continuing. "No. She's nobody's old lady. She's…just a friend." Still more silence. Jax shifted in his chair. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, lit one, and took a long drag. Clay leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him.

"And…?" Clay asked expectantly. Jax didn't think it was anybody's business, but he knew that the Sons of Anarchy didn't keep secrets from each other.

"Her name is Lily. We met years ago when she was on vacation in San Francisco. We kept in touch, she was coming back out west for another vacation," he paused to take another drag from his cigarette, "and I offered to let her stay at my place instead of wasting money on a hotel."

Clay raised his eyebrows. "That's it?"

Jax smiled around his cigarette. "I'm not the kiss-and-tell type, my brotha."

"So you _are_ screwin' her!" Tig interjected.

"I'm not screwing her…now, anyway." Jax chuckled as Bobby gave him an "atta boy!" pound on the back. "Now," he exhaled the last of the cigarette and stubbed the butt in a nearby ashtray, "can we get to the business at hand?"

"Alright, alright." Clay said. He knew Jax was right. This meeting had been convened to talk about something much more important than Jax's sex life. "Here's the deal. The Nords are getting a shipment of guns from someone in San Francisco. This supplier has also offered this shipment to us, if we can come up with a better price."

"Since when do the Nords run guns?" Tig asked.

"Since they got in bed with the Mayans," Clay answered. "Meth isn't enough for them anymore. They're trying to take us down, and they figure one way to do that is to cut in on our business."

"Alright. So this "supplier" doesn't care who he sells to. Just the highest bidder," Piney said. "My question is, who is this "supplier"?" Clay nodded at Juice, who shuffled a stack of computer printouts in front of him.

"Ironically enough, an ex-ATF agent," Juice informed. Piney and Chibs scoffed. Jax and Opie shared an incredulous look. "Now wait," Juice paused. "Apparently this guy was in charge of destroying guns recovered during raids. He didn't always wait until after the trial, though. The brass was beginning to catch on after a surprise inventory audit. The next day, he told the ATF to fuck off and went underground. According to the supplier—which ATF records confirm—these are the guns he has for sale." Juice passed around the list.

"Shit. This is quite a list," Piney said. "Quite the, uh…smorgasbord, shall we say." The list continued to round the table.

"Any of these guns have a body on them?" Jax asked as he flipped through the list.

"Probably most, if not all of them. It's a lot of guns. I'm still getting all the records." Juice may have been a skilled hacker, but it still pissed him off when the guys expected miracles. Jax tossed the list onto the table.

"So this ex-ATF agent, who stole the guns in the first place, wants somebody to pay _him _for the privilege of taking some hot guns off his hands? How do we know he's not just trying to get rid of them because the heat's on? Or if he's even an _ex_-ATF agent? We get jacked with a gun with a body on it, you know we not only go down for the gun, but the dead guy, too."

"But if we don't get jacked, it's the perfect cover. We're not _using_ them, anyway," Clay opined. "We sell a bunch to the One-Niners, a bunch to someone else, etcetera, etcetera. We're just the middle-man."

The men seated around the table sat deep in thought. Most could see that Clay had already made up his mind to take the guns. Jax understood this had less to do with the Sons of Anarchy acquiring the weapons than with keeping them out of Nordic hands. He still didn't think it was a good idea, though.


	2. Chapter 2

Jax retrieved his cell phone from the cigar box outside the Chapel and shoved it in his pocket. He and Clay had agreed to inform the former ATF agent of their decision to accept the guns at a predetermined meeting point. If they were going to take the guns, they showed. If they weren't, they didn't show. Of course, it worked both ways. The guy could change his mind and not show up himself; Samcro had no way to contact him, no phone number, no email address. The guy was completely off the grid. Clay was the only one who had ever had any contact with him, but that was still through another guy who claimed he was working for Mr. Former-ATF-Agent. The whole thing made Jax uneasy. There was no guarantee that this wasn't a way to lure them into a raid. Clay seemed confident that everything would work out.

Their meeting was supposed to take place at 2:30 the next morning. Right now, however, it was almost 10:00 and a few customers had started to trickle into Teller-Morrow Garage. Jax spent the next few hours under the hood of a mini van with faux wood panels. The customer had complained of a loud screeching noise when she had tried to start it to bring her kids to school. If his mind hadn't been so preoccupied worrying about the "what ifs" of the gun deal, he might have burst out laughing when the woman came back later that afternoon to retrieve her vehicle.

"So, it's all fixed?" she asked, taking the keys Jax handed to her. He motioned for her to follow him from the small office back to the garage.

"Yup. All fixed," he pretended to scratch his nose to hide his smile.

"So, what was wrong with it?" The woman clutched her keys. She seemed genuinely worried about the fate of her ugly-as-hell mini van. Jax bent over and picked up a blue plastic bucket from next to the vehicle. He held it out for the customer to examine.

"Cat," he answered. The woman looked confused, but she peered over the rim of the bucket. The keys fell from her hand and jangled against the pavement as one hand flew to her mouth, the other to her stomach. Jax expected her to vomit right there, but to her credit she kept her lunch down.

"Snowball!" she gasped. _Snowball?_ Jax thought, glancing at the mass of guts and black fur. He mentally shrugged. _Eh,_ _whatever. To each his own._ They stood silently for a few moments. Finally, he picked up the keys and handed them to the trembling woman.

"Well, the car's ready whenever you're ready." He extended the bucket closer to the customer. "Um, do you want to take this, too?" Jax expected the woman to run screaming in the opposite direction, but she actually extended her shaking hands and nodded. He handed her the bucket and watched as she silently walked back to her vehicle. She seemed dazed as she drove away.

"What was that all about?" Jax startled as Tig's voice appeared to his right and slightly from behind.

"Jeez, man! When the hell did you get here?"

Tig held up his hands, palms out. "About five seconds ago. Hey, man. Sorry I scared you." He pointed with his chin at the departing minivan. "So, what was that all about?"

"Oh, nothing. Cat in the fan belt."

Tig winced in mock horror. "Ooh! Catburger!" Jax rolled his eyes. If it was gross or perverted, Tig loved it. "You about finished here? 'Cause I would kill for a drink." Jax glanced at his watch. Almost two o'clock.

"Yeah. Let's go get something to eat. But first I have _got_ to wash the cat guts off my hands!" They turned to walk to the garage. The sound of an approaching motorcycle engine made them stop and turn. Jax recognized the rider as Lily from the skull painted on her helmet. Both men watched as she pulled her bike into a nearby parking space. Her Harley Sportster had a similar custom skull motif paint job as her helmet. She cut the ignition, and unhooked her helmet.

"Hey, roomie. Wanna go for some lunch, maybe a ride?" Jax walked over to Lily, who was still perched on her bike. Tig followed close behind. Jax motioned over his shoulder at the other man.

"Tig and I were just going. You're welcome to join us." Lily looked over at Tig, who up until this point had been silent.

"Yeah, we're just gonna go to this place down the street."

"Cool. Sounds great."

"Alright, then. It's a date. But I am still washing my hands before we go anywhere. Why don't you guys start heading on down, and I'll meet you there." Tig nodded. Jax turned back to the garage, and disappeared inside. Lily and Tig shared an awkward moment before Lily cleared her throat.

"Well, lead the way."

There may have been the three of them, but Jax had the feeling of being a third wheel. Lily and Tig were deep into already into their conversation when Jax sat down at the booth, and neither paid much attention to him after he arrived. They had apparently been talking motorcycles before Jax's appearance.

"I had to have it lowered so I could reach the ground," Lily was saying, kicking a boot-clad foot out from under the table. "Thank god for heels!" Tig chuckled.

"You don't seem that short."

Lily raised an eyebrow at him as she took a swig of her beer. "My legs are short." She leaned forward. "The rest of me is long." Tig leaned forward, raising an eyebrow of his own.

"I'm sure it is," he answered. Jax watched them and rolled his eyes. He could see where this was going. He waved for the waitress and ordered his meal.

"And what can I get for you guys?" the waitress asked. Lily and Tig seemed surprised at the waitress' appearance. Lily scanned the handwritten menu written on a chalkboard on the wall.

"Um…I guess I'll have the chicken basket combo."

"I'll have a cheeseburger, fries, and another one on these," Tig tipped his beer at the waitress. He turned back to Lily as the waitress went to place their order. "You should have gotten the cheeseburger. They make a killer burger here."

"Maybe I'll have to have a bite of yours."

Tig grinned wide at Lily's obvious double entendre.

"You won't regret it," Tig said.


End file.
